May Angels Lead You In
by xxElla MadElynxx
Summary: Stiles suffers from a loss and is shattered. He feels like he can't take it anymore and bounces back into his 'old habits'. Obviously Scott isn't going to let him give up just yet, but can he really help his best friend? Especially when Stiles doesn't want him to? Read and Review :) Warnings inside.
1. As His World Falls Apart

TITLE: May Angels Lead You In

By: Ellie

A/N: Hey...no wait, I can explain. For those who are following 'In The Blink Of An Eye', I am not done with that story just yet. The next chapter is almost done. Just a few touch ups and then I'll put it up. Really.

Until then, I thought I could post this multi-chaptered story. It's been sitting on my laptop for a while now because I wanted to complete it before posting. I haven't completed it yet but one needs encouragement, right? The story begins right after 3B.

Rated: T

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Self-harm. Character death- not the core four. Its a sensitive topic and I really don't want to hurt anyone. Please be warned. I'll make sure to specify in the beginning of the chapter if there's even the slightest hint. Though angst is there through out. Sure nobody minds that.

The title was inspired from the song- Hear You Me- by Jimmy Eat World. A shout out to Trishy Fishy for the wonderful idea and tremendous help. Thank you so much! :)

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><p><strong><em><span>CHAPTER:1:<span> _**

**_As His World Falls Apart_**

"No...no…no…no!" Scott shook his head in denial as he anxiously paced the narrow corridor of the hospital, his mother standing in front of him with her head bowed down in grief.

"No…" He ran a hand across his face in frustration. "Shit.. Mom…What about him?" He nervously asked as his friend's face flashed in front of his eyes, trying his best to not panic. His voice shook with emotion and he looked at his mother pleadingly.

"What about Stiles mom?" He almost yelled, running a shaky hand through his hair. Melissa knew exactly how close the two friends were, so close that she had always thought of Stiles as her son. She just stood there with teary eyes, her mind racing with all kinds of thoughts, before she quickly came forward and placed a consoling hand on her son's shoulder.

"Sweetheart, there was nothing we could do. He was barely breathing when your dad brought him here."

"I can't…" Scott sniffled as his eyes became watery and a tear trickled down his cheek. "Mom…we can't tell Stiles." He hurriedly spoke, eyes blown wide with fear. He wanted to be there for his friend, he really did but he just didn't know if he had the courage to do it again. Scott slid against the wall and sat down, his elbows on his knees, face buried deep in his hands.

"Honey, he needs to know." Melissa pressed as she crouched down beside him, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"Why is this happening again mom?" The teenager asked miserably, shaking his head and scrunching his eyes shut. Melissa, who had clearly decided to be strong for her son, swallowed her tears and pulled him into a hug. Scott dug his head deeper into his mother's shoulder and inhaled shakily.

After a considerable amount of time, when Scott's panic finally died down, Melissa planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Let's go. We have to tell him." She whispered, nodding her head in efforts to encourage her son who clearly seemed to be having second thoughts about it.

"He won't be able to take it."

"He will. He's stronger than you think. And besides, he's got us, right?" Melissa soothed, her voice calm, as though she was talking to a 5-year old boy.

Scott stared at his mother for a while and then nodded, obviously inspired by the confidence she had in her eyes, her voice showing no signs of waver or uncertainty. As determination bubbled ever so slowly inside his chest, another realization struck him hard and his eyes widened, desperateness crawling back into his tone. "Where will he stay? We can't...we can't let him go back to his own place. Mom...he has to stay with us." He quickly spoke.

Melissa wanted to comment on how her son was ordering her around but given to the situation, decided against it, only slightly smiling and nodding her head. Besides, she wanted that too- Stiles deserved the warmth of a home.

Scott nodded back as he unsteadily got up on his feet, taking deep breaths.

"Honey…remember you have to be strong. You can't break down like that in front of him. He needs you, now more than ever." She gently pressed her hand to Scott's face, and waited for him to respond.

"I will try mom." He forced a small nod- the only kind he could muster with so much despair and helplessness surrounding his heart. He then started following his mother to where the others were waiting, all the while feeling a hard lump rising in his throat.

As he walked down the hallway, Scott's eyes darted around the place, desperately looking for Stiles. He stopped in his tracks when he finally found his best friend uncomfortably seated on one of the hospital chairs, the heavy bags beneath his eye-lids and his pale skin, making him look lifeless. _Wait, why was Stiles so pale? And...why was he shivering?_

He was pulled out of his trance-like state when his mother gently tugged at his arm. He hesitantly nodded and started to walk again, lips slightly trembling as tears threatened to fall.

As he got closer, he noticed how Stiles stood up on his shaky feet, Lydia's arm circled around his', supporting his weight. Closing his eyes, he decided to focus on Stiles' beating heart. A quick frown appeared on his forehead as he listened. Pain and panic spread across his face almost immediately. Somehow, somewhere in his heart, Stiles knew. Stiles knew Sheriff Stilinski was dead. He knew his father was gone. Forever.

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><p>Stiles could see something was wrong…hell he knew exactly what it was. Scott's face was always an open book and the way his lips trembled - I am your best friend! Any other situation, he would have sarcastically rolled his eyes at the wolf for even uselessly trying.<p>

As Scott and Melissa got closer, his heart skipped a beat. He noticed a frown appear just as suddenly on Scott's face and Lydia tightened her grip around his arm. He was very thankful to the banshee for being there with him, because, although he would never admit it to anybody, she was the only thing holding him up.

He unconsciously clawed at his chest in efforts to calm himself down, rubbing the area with his thumb, desperately hoping that he was wrong. When the duo finally reached, he tapped his foot on the ground, "How's my dad?" He decided to jump straight to the point, eyes darting nervously between them.

He took a shaky breath as Melissa continued to look at her feet and Scott just stared at him. "Scott..how's my dad?" Stiles whispered, panic quickly rising in his chest, voice quivering with the swivel of emotions in his heart.

He did not miss the look that Scott shared with Lydia and her reaction to it made the whole situation clearer. She stood beside him with her mouth agape and her eyes widened in shock, hand lingering in front of her face. She quickly straightened when she saw Stiles staring at her.

With another shaky breath, Stiles untangled his arm from Lydia's and slowly stumbled towards Scott, his arms hanging in mid-air in front of his chest as he struggled to force air into his lungs.

"Scott…what happened?" His voice was thick with fear, brow furrowed in frustration. Why wouldn't Scott just freaking tell him?

"Stiles..I..I am so sorry."

That was it. The only trigger Stiles needed before his world crumbled down around him.

"No…." He refused to believe, still considering the possibility of this whole thing being a sick joke. C'mon, his dad couldn't really be dead. He knew he was being insane, but that was the only flicker of hope in his heart.

But the light of hope extinguished as soon as it had lit when Melissa looked up and sadly nodded.

"No….No.." A sob forced itself out of his throat and he pleadingly stared at the woman, shaking his head in denial.

He started trembling as his heart hammered inside his chest, not paying much attention to the concerned glances from everyone around him. He stumbled backwards, panting heavily. Without a warning, his knees gave out underneath him and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud. _Not my dad! Not him. Please, not him_.

Scott reached out to help his friend as quickly as he could and grabbed his shoulders. He gently pushed Stiles on the ground and kneeled down in front of him, hands lingering in front of his chest, unsure of what to do.

Lydia too placed her palm on her mouth, trying to stifle her cries. When Stiles collided with the ground, she rushed forward and curled her fingers around Stiles' shaky arm, trying to provide comfort in whichever way she could.

"Dad…." Though Stiles had intended to scream, all that came out was a miserable whisper. His voice was hoarse and dry, breaths coming out in short, painful gasps. He tightly gripped Scott's hand placed on his shoulder and tried again, "Why? Why...?" His voice cracked, tears now spilling down his cheeks. He could feel his best friend's hand on his face, his concerned and panicky voice slowly making its way into his head, "Stiles…Your heartbeat's crazy, just please, please..."

Another painful sob- scream-erupted from Stiles as he clutched at his chest with one of his arms, the other one still clasped around Scott's.

The desperate yell drained him of his energy and he began shivering violently. His mind became fuzzy, confusion taking over while his vision blurred around the edges. His mind swarmed with thoughts and he found himself struggling to breath, his heart hammering mercilessly beneath his chest. He knew what this was. In the moment of desperation, he quickly reached out to the one person he knew could help.

He latched on to Scott's shirt, "Sco…" He whispered as his eyes began to shut against his will, another sign of a panic attack fast approaching.

It didn't take a second and Scott was already pulling Stiles into a bone-crushing hug.

"It's okay. It's okay. Stiles, it's alright." He found himself panicking too, his own eyes brimming with tears.

Stiles melted into the embrace and dug his head deeper into Scott's chest as memories, painful memories, flooded his mind and images of his parents flashed in front of his eyes. He fisted his hands in Scott's shirt, shoulders bouncing as he sobbed uncontrollably.

Scott only tightened his hold on his brother's shoulders and stroked the back of his head in a comforting manner. He pressed his chin onto the human' head and shushed him, unconsciously rubbing circles on his back. They stayed like that for a while, Scott rocking them back and forth, continuously murmuring soothing words in Stiles' ear, Lydia's hand placed on top of his'.

While the rest of the pack just stood there watching the scene in front of them with teary eyes, Derek was the first one to react to Stiles' violent shivers. He quickly removed his own jacket and hesitated for just a second before hunkering down to wrap it around Stiles' shoulders, gently ruffling Scott's hair as he moved back. The younger wolf quickly nodded a thanks at the older one and began to adjust the jacket over Stiles' body and himself, never once pausing his mantra of comforting words.

Stiles was oblivious to everything that was going around him. He was panting heavily now, body sinking further into the floor, Scott's firm chest being the only barrier. His eyes were closed, body exhausted and emotionally drained, head throbbing behind his temples. His hair clung to his forehead and the back of his neck, slick with sweat. A dry cough rattled his ribs and Scott pressed his hand against the human's neck protectively.

He couldn't stop himself as his mind wandered off to the events of the same day, 5 years back when Stiles' mom had died. The two of them had sat like that for hours, Stiles leaning heavily onto him and crying into his shoulder. For two long years after the tragic loss, almost every day he had seen his brother struggle and flinch at the mentioning of his mother's name. And just when things were getting better, this had to…..Scott's thoughts were interrupted when Stiles' arms around his waist relaxed and fell lifeless on the floor.

He quickly broke the hug and held his friend by his shoulders, shaking him in his grip. Much to his horror, Stiles' head only lolled from one side to another, the white of his eyes peeking from beneath his shut eye-lids. He gently cupped the human's face and called out desperately for his mother. "Ma..." He nearly screamed, his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

Melissa quickly wiped her tears off and came rushing to her boys, letting her professional instincts kick in. She gently tapped Stiles' cheek. "Stiles, sweety..." She glanced at her son who looked like he was about to have a mental breakdown and hurriedly spoke, "Scott, he is okay. Scott, hey!" Scott gave no reaction for a second and she shared a quick, concerned glance with Derek, "Hey, it's okay. He'll be fine." She explained gently, noticing Scott's eyes welling up with tears.

Scott let out a few shaky breaths and nodded, wrapping his arms around Stiles almost desperately. For a second there, he thought Stiles was..gone. He thought his brother had left him. A sudden shiver shook him and a small cry escaped his lips, God why did this have to be so hard?

As fear seeped out of his body ever so slowly, he dug his face into Stiles' shoulder and relished into the gentle touch of his mother's hands caressing the back of his neck.

He hugged his brother tighter and breathed a sigh. At that time and moment, he swore to himself. He wasn't going to let anyone or anything hurt his best friend again. And if someone managed to inflict even a scratch on his brother's body, he would rip their throats out without a second thought.

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><p>Well, how was it? Please review. I need to know if I should continue this. Was Stiles out of character? And I swear, I don't ever want to see this happen in the show. I wouldn't be able to watch it. Its just easier to write. Anyways, thank you so much for reading and I'll update next week. Really.<p>

-Ellie


	2. The Day After

TITLE: May Angels Lead You In

By: Ellie!

A/N: I'm sorry for the terribly long wait. I've been having trouble writing lately. But bear with me for a little more longer...I'm trying my best to not disappoint you. Also, I'm sorry if this chapter doesn't really, you know, give the same amount of feels as the last one. It's just how it gets during a writer's block. :/

Thank you anyways for reading! And hopefully, you'll enjoy.

No warnings for this chapter. Also, I apologize for the title. Couldn't really come up with any other.

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><p><span><strong>CHAPTER:2:<strong>

**The Day After**

_"Stiles! Scott! Your lunch is ready!" Claudia Stilinski called out to her son and his best friend, who immediately pushed each other and ran towards her, their shoes squeaking on the wooden floors and chortles echoing in the silence._

_"Mom!" A four year old Stiles screamed in joy, jumping up his feet to sit on those oh-so tall chairs._

_Claudia turned around briefly from the tomatoes she was cutting, flashing a comforting smile at her son. She then turned towards Scott and chuckled in awe. "Having trouble sitting on that chair Scotty?" She asked, trying her best to not laugh._

_Scott ignored her comment and let out a small whimper as he stumbled on his feet, again. Before he could make any further attempts, he felt two arms slide beneath his shoulders and gently pick him up. He slumped on his chair and shifted a little, before turning around to see his helper._

_"Thank you, Mr. Stilinski." He said in the most solemn tone a small child could muster._

_"Its okay, Scott." The Sheriff replied, stifling a smile behind his lips. Scott was always such a gentleman._

_"Okay…eating time." Claudia appeared from behind her husband, placing two brimmed plates on the table. S__cott licked his lips hungrily, holding up the forks in his unsteady hands while Stiles glanced between his mother and the spaghetti she had cooked for him._

_"Mom, you're the best!" He said munching on his lunch hungrily, smiling at Scott in amazement who was already half-way there. Claudia ruffled Scott's hair and bent down to kiss on her son's forehead. "Your Ma loves you Stiles." She whispered, smoothing his hair strands with her palm._

_'I love yo'too Ma.' Stiles whispered back, not once looking up from his food, his feet bouncing happily. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to roll his spaghetti on the fork._

_"I love you both.' Stilinski came from behind Claudia and wrapped his arms around her waist._

_Feeling a little secluded and because he was always such an attention-seeker, "What about me?" Scott wailed, lower lip trembling slightly. Knowing how easily Scott cried, Claudia hurriedly jogged towards him and kissed him gently on the cheek, "You too, Scott!"_

_A second later, Scott's lips pulled into his dimpled smile and the Stilinski family chuckled at his crazy antics._

_Stilinski family_…Stiles' eyes slowly fluttered open and he smiled at the memory. He was surprised albeit thankful that for the first time in a very long time, he didn't have to scream himself awake. If any other guy would have ever made an appearance in Stiles' head, he would have probably questioned his preferences but this was Scott. His best friend. His brother. Someone he had met when he was four years old, in a freaking sandbox. And as for now, his only family.

His eyes darted around the dark room in confusion. From how much he could see, it was not his room, just his 'other' room. He recognized the creaky sound the bed made when he tried to move and propped up on his elbows, clearly confused as to what he was doing at Scott's house. His brow wrinkled further and he moved his hand up to touch his forehead, only to wince and stop mid-way when he felt the unmistakable sharpness of an IV needle moving slightly beneath the layer of his skin.

Wait, why...

He touched the needle peeking from beneath the bandage and his mouth parted in a silent question. His breathing became shallower as he struggled to remember, not liking the way his head was pounding inside his skull. He was at the hospital, he remembered that. Why was he there? And...

_Oh my God!_

"...Da..." It all came back rushing to him with painful clarity and his eyes widened, pain now replacing the feeling of terror. He stared at his shivering hands in horror and fought the urge to yell for help, to yell for Scott. He clutched at his chest, trying to slow his breathing and shook his head. He knew it was the fear of a panic attack that always triggered one, then why the hell was he letting it take hold? He tried to calm himself down but the guilt, the freaking guilt of not having said goodbye to his father when he had left for his job on that unfortunate day didn't help the case.

The next few seconds were silent, save for the sound of Stiles trying to control his racing heart and clamp down on the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted... no, he needed to call Scott, but his friend didn't deserve to deal with this.

He had seen Scott panic before and he couldn't sleep that night, replaying the memory, thinking over and over about the what-ifs and buts. He didn't want Scott to go through the mental torture too. He wasn't so selfish. He couldn't be so selfish, not when he had already forced Scott to help him during a panic attack and especially not when Scott was being like _this_. He vaguely remembered his brother holding him close and crying into his shoulder just before he lost consciousness.

And that only made him angrier. Furious even. He had done that, he had pushed Scott to the edge.

He knew Scott was a friend worth keeping. An overall good-guy who was always there for him. Even when Stiles tried to kill him, swirling the sword inside his best friend's body and manically smiling at his doing. Yes, Stiles had seen it all. Even though he had no control over himself back then, he somehow felt that it was his fault. If he had been stronger, maybe braver, things would have been different. Allison and Aiden wouldn't have been dead and Scott wouldn't be mentally beating himself up for…everything that happened.

The speed at which his thoughts churned inside his head made him restless and he fisted his hand in the sheets as tears welled up in his eyes. A light snore, on the other hand, pulled him out of his raging thoughts and he almost desperately turned to look at the source of the sound, finally letting those unshed tears fall.

"Scott..." He breathed out, mostly to remind himself that he was going to be fine now. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief, huffing out long and slow breaths, just so his heart would stop hammering inside his chest.

Another louder snore escaped Scott's mouth and he shifted in his chair, face contorting in distress. Stiles couldn't help but feel a tiny-tiny skip in his heart; those things were never comfortable. Despite his building anger, his hands stopped shaking and he shook his head in disbelief, frustrated at himself. _And really, why the hell was Scott there in the first place?_

"Scott?" He murmured through gritted teeth. Surprisingly, even with all that were-wolf hearing, Scott didn't budge.

With a tired frown, he took in the sight of his brother and his nose flared with more threatening tears. Scott looked exhausted, the black bags beneath his eye-lids adding to his already daunting appearance. His face was also slightly reddened, a sign that he had cried some time after Stiles' break down at the hospital. And from how much he knew about his best friend- Scott might have probably let it all out in the confines of his own room, somewhere nobody would see him, all alone. Why did Scott always have to be the responsible and strong one? Stiles already knew the answer to that. Obviously, the were-wolf cared a little too much about the people around him. Stiles cursed himself inwardly for being so...weak and making his friend feel so helpless.

"HEY!" He called out, this time much more loudly, his anger having taken control.

Scott suddenly jolted up, his eyes glowing red, falling off the edge of the chair and colliding with the ground. Stiles felt a twang of pang in his heart as he stared at his friend's disheveled state.

"Stiles…you okay?" Scott asked breathlessly, standing shakily on his feet as his eyes darted nervously around the room.

"Yesss I am fine, Scott." Stiles angrily muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair. He could barely hear himself and he entirely blamed tiredness and guilt for that but the continuous ringing sound in his ear could have also been the other reason.

He had never meant to snap like that but he really needed Scott to take better care of himself, and if pretending was going to force his best friend out of his room, so be it. He shifted his gaze to meet Scott's and his brow furrowed. Scott looked like he had been expecting that.

The were-wolf sighed loudly and slumped down on the chair, gripping the back of his neck and stifling a wince. He ignored the glare that Stiles was sending his way. No way was he going to let Stiles shut himself off. Not like this. "Mom's going to help you with that tomorrow." He said, thrusting his chin towards the IV needle. "You really needed that, after..." He closed his eyes and let the words hang thickly in the air, like remembering would cause him pain and stir up memories...memories that he had shoved in the darkest corners of his mind.

Stiles paid no heed to his friend's words and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go Scott! Go get some real sleep." He spoke quickly.

"No..I am fine here." Scott replied rather absent-mindedly, continuing to rub at his stiff neck.

"Scott, please just go." Stiles begged this time, though it didn't sound very convincing. He could still feel a panic attack stirring inside his chest, could one really blame him for not wanting to stay alone?

Scott eyed his friend with concentration, brows wrinkled and lips pursed into a thin line. Stiles was lying, he was certain. It was evident from the way his heart was relentlessly pounding beneath his chest- the sound echoing clearly in Scott's ears- making his own break into two.

"Stiles, don't you dare..." Scott failed to complete, closing his eyes to keep his concern-induced anger at bay. He glanced at Stiles and his own eyes softened. His best friend's face was a picture of shock mixed with slightest hints of fear. The words just slipped out of the were-wolf's mouth, he had never really meant to say it out loud. And he had even managed to make it sound like a threat. Way to go, Scott. He cursed himself.

"I'm...I'm sorry.." He mustered the courage to finally look at his best friend but only for a second. He threw his head backwards and stared at a spot on the ceiling, muttering incoherent words under his breath before shifting his gaze and meeting Stiles' now stubborn look, "Okay...okay. But promise me, PROMISE ME.." There, he was yelling again, "...if you need anything just.."

"Yell. I know." Stiles interrupted with a nod, eyes flickering nervously between Scott and the floor, too quick and uncertain.

Scott sighed once more and headed towards the door, placing a hand on the door knob. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to glance at his best friend curled up on the bed. With a tired sigh- and a string of curse words bubbling inside his chest because c'mon Stiles didn't deserve to deal with any of this- he left.

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><p>The feeling was overpowering. The feeling of sheer pain and panic that attacked him once Scott was gone. It was almost like someone had kicked him in the gut and knocked the air out of his lungs. The fear of losing his sanity overtook his senses almost immediately and he struggled with himself to stop his thoughts from running a thousand miles per second inside his head. He didn't want to think about how his mere existence was killing the people he cared about. He fisted his hands in the sheets and willed himself to remember the good times of his life. His mind, on the other hand, didn't cooperate and all he could recall was being responsible for the deaths of the people he loved. The harsh reality became a little too heavy for his shoulders to bear and he tightened his grip on the sheets.<p>

He swallowed hardly to control his heart rate before zoning out again.

Allison. Mom...he wasn't responsible for her death but with the way Stiles' thoughts were churning inside his head, it was obvious he really didn't have it in him to reason anymore. The last string, helping him control his tears and not give in to his guilt-driven thoughts, was stretched to its breaking point when his father's voice echoed in his ears. His last words, the memory of the last breakfast he had shared with his father, the unfulfilled promise of eating pizza for dinner. He struggled to muffle his cries beneath the sheets now as his body wracked with painful hiccups. When pain gripped his chest a little to tight, Stiles desperately let out the sob he had been trying so hard to suppress. His chest clenched almost painfully as he inhaled, closing his eyes and forcefully slapping his hand on his mouth.

Stop! Stop! Fucking stop! He yelled inside his head, clutching at his chest with one of his hands, short gasps shaking his thin frame.

He didn't know for how long he cried, it could have been a few fifteen minutes, but now his face was stinging, his sleeve wet with tears he had forcefully wiped off. His eyes suddenly felt heavy, exhaustion creeping in with full force. And before he could resist it, darkness engulfed him. Again.

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><p>Scott shook his head and ran a hand across his face in frustration? Concern? A hard lump was currently rising in his throat, making him incapable of thinking. The only thing he could register, on the other hand, was the sound of Stiles' escalating heart rate. He was standing right outside Stiles' room, tapping his foot nervously on the ground, ready to barge in any time , but he knew, he knew Stiles didn't want him there.<p>

A strangled sob escaped his friend's mouth and his own heart broke into two, a lone tear trickling down his cheek. As helplessness tore through him, he slid down the wall, positioning his elbows on his knees and digging his face into his hands.

'Yell. Yell. Yell.' He found himself repeating inside his head.

Time seemed to have slowed down- each second ticking by slower than the last- as Stiles cried louder and Scott just sat there feeling helpless. The were-wolf had lost track of time- lost in his own thoughts and the sound of Stiles' unsteady breathing when suddenly, a frown appeared on his forehead and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Stiles' sobs had stopped but it had been a little abrupt for his liking. He quickly got up on his feet and stumbled towards the door, opening it with a strangely gentle click. He stuck his head inside and inhaled shakily.

Stiles was asleep- though he looked anything but peaceful- his hand limply hanging down the edge of the bed and tears drying on his cheek, some siding down to his already-wet pillow.

With tears stinging his own eyes, Scott tip-toed towards his best friend and gently picked his hand up. He straightened the blankets and just stood there, staring. His hand unknowingly lingered in front of Stiles' arm where the needle was still peeking from beneath the bandages, looking just as painful as it had before, when his mother had pierced it into his friend's skin. The frown that had appeared on Stiles' head at that moment had actually made Scott's heart jump in it's place- an unpredictable and exaggerated reaction, he knew that but he couldn't really control it. Stiles was pack. His brother.

If Stiles was conscious, he would have probably muttered something about 'overprotective were-wolves' under his breath. Scott's lips pulled into a smile before being quickly replaced by a tired yawn. He stretched out his arms above his head and glanced at the chair behind him. Without a second thought, he settled in for the night. He threw his legs over the armrest and folded his arms on his chest. He hesitated for a while. What if Stiles needed him again? But eventually exhaustion won out and he fell asleep.

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><p>Well? Was it a little too much? You can be a better judge of that. Also, thank you guys for following, reviewing and reading! If there were errors, I apologize. I didn't proof-read it. Also, I thought it would take me less time to update this story because I've already written a few chapters but I guess I was wrong. It's taking longer to 'improve' a chapter than it does to write one. Does that make sense? :D<p>

See you soon!

-Ellie


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